


Together in Paris

by KoraKwidditch



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adult Hermione Granger, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Dom Lucius Malfoy, Drunken Confessions, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Lawyer Hermione Granger, Light Dom/sub, Minor Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Mutual Pining, Not Epilogue Compliant, Only One Bed, Oops! I came in you, POV Hermione Granger, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Divorce, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:41:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28250307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoraKwidditch/pseuds/KoraKwidditch
Summary: Lucius Malfoy asked for Hermione's help in divorcing Narcissa. After having the final papers signed, they get stuck in Paris.And there's only one room left at the hotel.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Lucius Malfoy
Comments: 15
Kudos: 109
Collections: DND Ladies Secret Santa Exchange





	Together in Paris

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TriDogMom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TriDogMom/gifts).



> For Baddest Bitch—I mean, TriDogMom. Merry Christmas <3
> 
> Thank you to Maurauve for betaing! And special thank you to Talonwillow for making the accompanying pretty<3
> 
> My first Lumione, hope you all enjoy!

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/143851546@N04/50748306888/in/dateposted-public/)

**Together in Paris**

  
  


“You can't be serious.” 

“Oui, I apologise Madame,” The French Ministry receptionist said. “The next portkey isn’t until tomorrow at 11. The portmaster had an emergency. He is the only one that can take you to and from Paris—“ 

“Yes,” Hermione interrupted. “Yes, you said that before. I understand, but I’m a lawyer. I was here on business, and I have to get my client back—“ 

“Miss Granger,” Lucius Malfoy placed a hand on her shoulder, reeling in the lioness that clawed from Hermione’s mouth. “It’s quite alright. There’s a hotel nearby we can stay at.” 

Hermione clamped her jaw shut and shook off his hand, ignoring the heat that shot straight to her core at the contact. She understood she was making a scene, but she had a mountain of paperwork to get through. It certainly had  _ nothing _ to do with her displeasure at having to spend so much time with Lucius Malfoy. 

It wasn’t that she hated him, no, she had forgiven him a long time ago for his part in the war. The Ministry and the rest of the wizarding world had too, once he waved the Malfoy chequebook around. 

No, it wasn’t that she hated him.

It was that she was utterly in love with him. 

The newly-divorced man had come to her Wizarding law firm to seek a divorce lawyer. Hermione's firm mainly dealt in magical creature representation and lawsuits, but Hermione took one look at Lucius Malfoy, defeated and ruined, and said yes. 

They had become relatively close in the last year they worked together. Hermione always felt rather sentimental when she thought how much Lucius had changed. Hermione always felt rather warm when she thought about how much Lucius had changed. Not only did he return to who he was before the war, but he'd also grown. He asked her questions of her muggle parents, of her childhood, and even occasionally what muggles were “up to now”. 

Lucius showed a real interest, and it had fascinated her. Eventually, that fascination turned into something more. It turned into something that left her breathless after their meetings and kept her awake at night. She began to notice the tick of his jaw when he was angry; the sharp grey of his eyes that pierced through her while she would speak, and she couldn’t help it when these tiny details slipped into her daydreams. 

The only damper on the whole thing, it seemed, was that she was reminded daily of his failing marriage. 

It was why they were in France in the first place. Narcissa had separated from Lucius shortly after the war and moved to France, where, according to gossip columns, she had a new lover every week. The self-conceited bint refused to sign any paper unless they were brought directly to her. 

Hermione, of course, only heard the challenge. She arranged with Lucius to portkey to the French Ministry a week later and served Narcissa  _ Black  _ her papers on a silver fucking tray. Even though the woman got the Malfoy Chateau, and a third of the Malfoy vaults, there was still something so satisfying in handing Narcissa’s arse to her. 

But she had signed them, and now Lucius was a free man. 

It suddenly got very hard to breathe. 

Hermione nodded at Lucius and mumbled an apology to the receptionist. Lucius led them back outside, pausing to open the door for her. Hermione shot him a smile in passing and the one he replied with had her stomach flipping. 

“So, where to?” Hermione asked once outside in the warm summer air. 

“Just down the street, there’s a hotel that serves muggles and magical.” 

Lucius stepped closer to Hermione as a couple brushed past them. His scent of mint and saffron filled her nose as they invaded each other’s space. Suddenly her head was tilted upward to look at him, and Hermione's mouth dried. His long hair created a barrier from the outside world as he looked down at her. 

“Shall we go?” 

Hermione blinked as the sunlight permeated her gaze once more. She felt dazed and confused, frozen in place. “Sorry, yes.”

Lucius led them down a traditional cobble street, entering a packed hotel that Hermione couldn’t dream of affording in a million years. Gold hugged every nook and cranny, reflecting off the marble...everything shimmered with it. 

Lucius placed a hand on the small of her back to lead them through the crowd, and Hermione swore the room suddenly became ten degrees hotter. Sparks sent from his fingertips through her spine and up her back, and Hermione nearly sighed from relief when he dropped his hand and walked to the counter as if he owned the place. 

“Deux chambres.” 

The receptionist clicked on the computer and replied in a very apologetic tone some rush of French words that Hermione barely kept up with. No matter how hard she tried, languages were not her strong suit. 

The receptionist and Lucius spoke animatedly, and Lucius even flashed his wand a few times. Not to use it, but almost as if he was offering it as a bargaining chip. 

Eventually, he gave in with a resolved huff and turned to Hermione. “There’s only one room left.” 

Hermione swallowed. “Well, that’s alright. Is there a couch or a second bed? We could transfigure the bed into two I suppose—“ 

“Transfiguration is not allowed on the furniture,” Lucius replied with a defeated sigh. “They’re antique one-of-a-kind pieces; transfiguration could ruin them.” 

“Well, what are we supposed to do then? Is there another hotel we could stay at?” 

Lucius checked his ornate pocket watch, his broad hands and strong fingers clenching the metal. Hermione wondered briefly if they would feel soft or rough against her skin before she silently chastised herself. 

“Apparently there’s some muggle festival in town; she said other hotels would more than likely be booked. I don’t know about you, Miss Granger, but I don’t feel like traipsing around all of Paris.” 

Hermione chewed on her lip as she glanced up to Lucius’ face from his watch. He did look tired, and Merlin help her, so was she. 

“Fine,” she replied, even though her stomach dropped. “We’ll figure it out.” 

Lucius spoke again with the receptionist, who gave them their key after a charge was made to the Malfoy Bank account. Hermione had learnt long ago that it was better just to let Lucius pay for things. Malfoy pride. 

They walked through the lobby to the lifts, and Lucius inconspicuously touched the tip of his wand to the buttons once they approached. The doors opened instantly, and instead of walking into an elevator, they stepped through to an embellished second lobby. The doors shut quietly behind her as Hermione looked around in awe. 

It was significantly _ more _ beautiful than the previous lobby somehow. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceilings, casting rainbows on every surface as the evening sun reflected through the window. Crowds of people mingled at the old-fashioned bar to her right, the occupants dressed to the nines in gowns and tuxedos. 

Herringbone wooden floors covered in filigree designed rugs kept her gaze on her feet for a moment as she walked. She stared so hard at the pattern that she nearly ran into Lucius’ back as they approached the staircase. A dark green stair runner covered the centre, and the herringbone pattern changed to one of diamonds. Hermione felt as if she were in the 1920s at some luxury hotel. 

“This is the Wizarding part of the hotel,” Lucius said as they climbed the twisted staircase. “We won’t have to worry about magic.” 

Hermione nodded, her stomach twisting further into knots as they approached their room. She had already decided she’d sleep on the floor. Her back would ache, but there was no way in hell she would sleep next to Lucius Fucking Malfoy. 

They passed by a couple in the open hallway that overlooked the lobby below. They both stood against the railing, openly snogging harder than Ron and Lavender at their wedding. Hermione blushed at their actions and quickly caught up to Lucius. Apparently, she had slowed her walk to watch the pair. 

It wasn’t that she was a prude by any means, but she certainly thought something like  _ that  _ should be kept to the bedroom. They were practically having sex with each other in plain view. Risking another glance back in their direction, Hermione found them literally dry humping. 

Quickly turning away, her face flushed with so much heat she could’ve brewed tea. Lucius stood at their door, watching her with an arched brow and amused smirk. He had seen her watching them. 

She wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole. 

Thankfully, Lucius said nothing and opened their door, stepping back to let her in first. Hermione rushed through, making it a point not to look back again. Lucius’ smirk turned to a smile, and he held a finger across his lips as if to keep from laughing out. 

Hermione pushed away the mortification she felt and looked around the room. It was as she expected; grandiose and dripping with money. It might have been the last room in the place, but it was still bigger than most hotel rooms would’ve been.

Across the dark herringbone wood floor was the thing she dreaded most; there really _ was _ only one bed. A set of armchairs sat in the corner of the room around the table, but they didn’t look particularly comfortable enough to sleep in. 

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” she told Lucius as she walked to the window at the end of the room. It was large and overlooked the heart of the street below. 

Lucius scoffed, “Certainly not. The bed is plenty big enough for the two of us. We won’t even touch.” 

Hermione turned back to peer at the bed. It had to have been at minimum a King; at least four people could sleep comfortably in it. 

The blush returned to her cheeks as he sat on the edge of it, undoing his sparkling silver cufflinks and tossing them onto the dresser without care. Then he rolled his sleeves up to the elbow, exposing his bare forearms. The dark mark had disappeared from the Death Eaters immediately after Voldemort's defeat. It had made it difficult to track them all down, but with Draco’s help on the Auror team and Harry leading the way as Head, they made quick work of it. 

Hermione suspected something was going on with the two of them, but she didn’t pry. And they, in turn, didn’t pry into hers, which she was thankful for every day. She didn’t know how Draco would react to finding out she fancied his father. 

Lucius took his hair out from its tie to let it drape down his back like a silver curtain and glanced at her with a questioning look. “Will you be gawking at me all night? I fear we may need to sleep apart after all if you keep looking at me like that.” 

Hermione quickly averted her gaze back outside, “Sorry. I’m just still a bit uncomfortable about the whole sleeping together thing and—”

“Hermione,” Lucius said. Hermione whipped around to find him standing, muscled arms flexing as they crossed his chest. Merlin, he was so muscular it made her ache. “If it truly makes you uncomfortable, I will sleep on the floor.”

“No, no. You paid for the room; you should at least get to sleep in the bed,” Hermione chewed her lip. 

She knew there was no use saying she would sleep on the floor. Both she and Lucius were stubborn. He lost more disagreements than she did, but only when the outcome affected himself—never other people. Lucius stared at her, asking with his eyes if she were absolutely sure. The silver burned into her like liquid metal, and she quickly nodded in an attempt to get them off her. She was sure she would die from her heated face. 

“How about,” Lucius started as he fingered a piece of stock-paper from atop the dresser. “You go take a shower, and I’ll order us some dinner.” 

“Alright,” Hermione agreed, eager to be out of his presence. She needed to get a grip. 

Grabbing her bag, she walked quickly to the bathroom and disappeared behind the door without a backward glance. Her heels clicked on the marble floor, and she tossed them off. The expensive stone felt cool underfoot as she inspected the rest of the bathroom. It was three-times larger than her own bathroom at home, and probably three-times as costly. 

The same marble from the floor continued up the shower walls, and wide waterfall showerhead hanging from the ceiling. Undressing, Hermione stepped into it eagerly, the hot water running over her body and relaxing her. The soaps the hotel provided smelled heavenly, like a mix of jasmine and honey. They must have had some type of potion mixed in, because her skin had never felt softer, nor her hair so smooth. 

Wrapped in the fluffiest towel Hermione had ever touched, she rummaged around in her extendable-charm bag for extra clothes. She always had things ready to go no matter what. If the War taught her one thing, it was to always be prepared. 

The pyjamas she pulled out, however, had her smile and warm feelings instantly disappearing. The only pyjamas in her bag were the kind reserved for camping in the summer or being somewhere warm—a silk camisole and matching shorts. 

The thought of wearing this in front of Lucius horrified her. Hermione debated putting her earlier outfit back on, but a tight pencil skirt didn’t seem comfortable. Without much of a choice, she slipped the light blue clothes on and left the bathroom. 

Lucius’ eyes instantly narrowed at her bare legs from where he sat at the table. Hermione thought about running back into the bathroom to hide but steeled herself. They were both adults; it was just scraps of fabric. Lucius was sure to have seen many scantily-clad women in his time. 

The thoughts did nothing to quell her nerves. 

“Is that what you normally sleep in?” Lucius asked while Hermione continued to stand awkwardly at the bathroom door. 

Hermione flushed, “No, it was all I had in my bag.” An awkward silence passed, and she noticed he still wore his dress-shirt and trousers. “I have some of Ron and Harry’s old things if you’d like to—” 

“I will be perfectly fine wearing just my pants, thank you.” Lucius interrupted as if he were commenting on the weather. 

Hermione’s tongue went numb as images of Lucius in just his pants flashed through her mind. 

Thankfully for her, a knock at their door signalled the arrival of their food. Hermione rushed forward to get it as Lucius stood from his chair. A man wheeled in a cart filled with covered dishes and a huge bottle of wine. 

He and Lucius exchanged some pleasantries—in perfect French, of course—and as the man left, Lucius passed him several galleons. 

The scent of hot food and beautifully paired herbs filled the room. Lucius flicked his wand, and the trays floated to the nearby table. The lids removed, revealing duck confit, plated as if they were about to eat at a five-star restaurant. The wine poured itself into crystal glasses and set themselves next to the plates. 

Lucius gestured for her to sit at the table first, eyes raking over her body again. Hermione crossed her arms as she sat, suddenly very aware of how exposed she was. For Merlin’s sake—she wasn’t even wearing a bra. 

She gulped down half of her wine before Lucius even sat down. The warmth of the alcohol spread from her stomach to her arms and legs. Hermione wasn’t much of a drinker, but she needed something to gather her nerves. Already her head buzzed with tipsiness—this certainly wasn’t the bottom-shelf wine she bought at the grocery store. 

The wine bottle floated to her glass and refilled it as they began to eat. Her stomach was too in knots to eat much. If it tasted as good as it looked, Hermione was sure it was heavenly. But when she tried to eat, her throat closed and stomach fluttered. 

And then Lucius’ knee bumped into hers, and Hermione nearly choked on her wine. 

He glanced up at her silently with a questioning brow. The food and plate before her suddenly became extremely interesting. By the time Lucius finished eating, Hermione’s plate was only picked at, and the buzz in her head doubled. Their knees were also pressing together repeatedly, but Hermione attributed that to the little space beneath the table. Lucius was quite tall, so of course, he needed the extra legroom. 

It in no way shot a raging inferno straight to her core. 

Lucius sipped a glass of ice water as she sat back in his chair, legs brushing against hers. He looked at her with a curious gaze when she shuddered. “Would you like some water?”

Hermione waved him off, “No, this will help me sleep.” 

Lucius stayed silent as they both continued to sip on their respective drinks. 

* * *

Godric, how wrong she’d been. 

_ Lucius had gone to take a shower after he ate, and Hermione continued to drink alone. The smooth red had gone down easy, and it helped her to forget that he had been naked on the other side of that door. Then they had laid down shortly after Lucius returned from the shower.  _

_ And Hermione couldn’t sleep.  _

_ Because he had left that shower with nothing on except his damn pants and a half-unbuttoned shirt.  _

_ And fuck if he looked positively fit. Chiselled torso, strong arms and Good Godric those thighs; Hermione had nearly fainted as they flexed when he walked to the bed.  _

_ When he had reached the bedside, his skilled fingers unbuttoned the rest of his shirt slowly—as if he knew Hermione was watching him. However, his eyes stayed on the task at hand as he tossed the now removed shirt to the end of the bed. No; it was merely her imagination that he was doing it on purpose.  _

_ But then he had pulled back the sheet and looked at her expectantly. Like he was waiting for her to get in bed too.  _

_ The wine must have done something funny to Hermione, because she stood in a rush and raced to the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind her. Walking to the sink, she splashed cold water to her face to get that image from her head. Lucius—nearly naked, muscled Lucius Malfoy asking her with those fuck-me-eyes of his to come to bed. _

_ Hermione patted her face dry and grabbed her bag, pulling out a toothbrush and toothpaste. There was no way she would mortify herself further by going to bed with wine-breath. Once finished, the bathroom door loomed in front of her menacingly. On the other side, Lucius would be waiting for her to get into bed with him.  _

_ And then they would sleep together. _

_ And Hermione wanted nothing more than to shag the absolute daylights out of him.  _

Now here she was, wide awake and lying on her side, trying to ignore the heat of him at her back. The size of the bed didn’t matter; Hermione could still sense him move on the other side, could hear his deep breaths. 

“Are you awake?” Lucius whispered suddenly, making Hermione jump. She hadn’t expected him to still be awake. Hermione debated not answering for a moment, but what purpose would that serve? It was obvious that she was awake. 

“Yes,” she replied, her voice soft. Hermione refused to turn and face him; no, she would keep her gaze firmly planted at the wall in front of her. 

“I just wanted to thank you for today, and every day before. Without you, I would have ever managed to do it.” 

Hermione’s stomach flipped a hundred times, her hands shaking. Lucius had no idea what this meant for her; to be appreciated. 

Clearing her throat, Hermione stuttered out a pathetic, “You’re welcome.” 

The mattress dipped as Lucius moved. His heat suddenly felt closer—too close. Hermione kept her eyes on the wall as her pulse raced. 

The ghost of a finger skimmed her shoulder and goosebumps erupted over her skin. Still, she stared at the wall. 

Lucius dropped his head heavily to the mattress and huffed, “Hermione,” it was the first time he had called her that, and another thrill shot through her. “I am not accustomed to not getting what I want. I am not accustomed to having to ask for things.” 

A pause, then she could feel Lucius sit up. “Hermione—I want you.” 

Now she did flip on to her back. Lucius stared at her, eyes storming beneath his lashes. A lump formed in her throat as he leant closer to her and reached a hand up to gently touch her shoulder again. 

Hermione sucked in a sharp breath as electricity raged across her skin. 

Lucius dropped his gaze to her lips as he leant even closer, their mouths inches apart. “Do you want me?” 

She could say no, could say they had to keep this professional. He had just divorced his wife that morning; this wasn’t right. But she didn’t want to—because it  _ did  _ feel right. 

Hermione nodded, and Lucius closed the gap. 

His lips were firm as they pressed against hers, but gentle, as if to allow her the chance to reconsider. But the only thing she felt as she kissed him back was elation. Throwing her arms around his neck to pull him closer, Hermione moaned as his arms wrapped around her too. 

Their chests pressed together, and she could feel Lucius relax between her arms. He pulled away with a sigh and leant their foreheads together, breathing deeply. 

“Even sweeter than I imagined,” he said, swiping his thumb roughly under her lip and pulling it. 

Heat pooled in her knickers. “Lucius I—” 

Lucius placed his thumb over her mouth to silence her and gave her a bittersweet smile. “I understand. Thank you for allowing me the moment.” 

Then he untangled himself from her and flipped back to his side before Hermione even knew what had happened. He thought she was about to turn him down? After a kiss like  _ that _ ? 

Hermione sat up abruptly in a rush of still-drunk courage; her want to reassure Lucius overpowering her embarrassment. She gripped his arm tightly and pulled him to his back. 

“I wasn’t done.” 

And then  _ she  _ kissed  _ him _ . It was the most passionate thing Hermione had ever experienced. 

Their arms quickly tangled around each other, hands groping every inch of skin they could find. Hermione shuddered beside him as his fingertips grazed her bare thigh. When she moaned into his mouth, it seemed to break any barrier that remained between them. Lucius flipped her on her back so suddenly she gasped for air, and when his covered cock pressed directly against her, she did it again. 

Lucius trailed kisses down the side of her neck and to her chest, teeth grazing her collarbone. “I am not a simple man, Hermione. I know what I like,” he told her between kisses. “I like to hurt you in the best ways possible. I like to leave my marks; I like to tell you what to do and when to do it. Can you handle that, pet?” 

Hermione was practically a puddle beneath his lips. “Yes, yes—I can handle it.” 

Lucius vanished their clothing without another word. Hermione yelped in surprise and attempted to cover herself, but Lucius grabbed her wrists and pinned her arms to the bed. No clothing separated them now, and she could feel his full length rub against her clit. She glanced down and whimpered at the sheer size of it—she had no idea how large it truly was unless she had a tape measure, but she ached to have it stretch her. 

Silver eyes watched her as she took in his body, Hermione’s hungry gaze roaming over him. He gave her a wicked smirk when she adjusted her hips against him, silently confirming that she wanted more. 

Lucius resumed his attack on her neck, his nips and sucks sure to leave marks. He avoided her breasts with only one goal in mind. Hot kisses trailed her stomach, his body shifting to lay himself down. Lucius’ lips pressed to her inner thighs, skirting the one place she wanted his face to be buried. 

When Lucius looked up at her with those fuck-me-eyes, Hermione knew she was in trouble. 

“Fuck,” she muttered before she could stop herself. 

His eyes darkened, and Lucius held her gaze as he swiped his tongue flat against her soaked sex, flicking her clit expertly. 

The low moan that bubbled in Hermione's chest had him do it again. Hermione continued to moan, and Lucius continued to feast on her. His fingers were added somewhere in the mix, pumping into her without restraint. His other hand squeezed firmly to her hip, fingerprint bruises sure to blossom on her skin come tomorrow. But Hermione didn’t care; she showed Lucius just how much she wanted him. She moaned wantonly; uncaring if anyone heard. The tether she kept so soundly tight began to loosen. 

And then Lucius sucked on her clit and slapped her thigh, and the tether snapped. 

Hermione came crashing down against his mouth, squeals and throaty groans left her mouth while he worked her through it. His fingers began to pump lazily, tongue lapping gently at her apex. Hermione tried desperately to catch her breath while her chest heaved. She’d had many orgasms in her life, but nothing even close to that. 

Lucius removed his fingers and pressed a swift kiss to the inside of her thigh, biting gently and making Hermione suck in a sharp breath. His cock twitched as he sat up, the head swollen and looking as if it needed touching. Hermione's mouth watered. 

There was nothing she loved more than sucking cock, truth be told. It embarrassed her at first—how wet she became the first time. But then she discovered that men liked it when she played with herself while she sucked them off. Now she didn’t care; she  _ knew _ Lucius would like it. 

Sitting up, Hermione pushed gently on Lucius’ chest, and he laid his back down against the pillows, his arms helping to prop him up to watch her. His fingers threaded through her hair and tugged, moving her face to his cock. Good, he already knew what she wanted. 

Hermione wasted no time in wrapping her lips around him. She had to adjust a little to fit his thick size, but already her mouth salivated as her tongue swiped the top. Her arse was on full display beside Lucius, and she groaned around his length as he kneaded and spanked the cheeks. 

Her jaw began to ache, but Hermione ignored it—in fact, she savoured in it. Desire coursed through her at the strained breaths Lucius exhaled, one of his hands still tangled in her hair. His other continued it’s ministrations on her arse, refusing to touch her soaked centre. Desperate for relief, Hermione pressed her fingers to her clit and softly rubbed. She just needed to release some of the tension, and she knew Lucius would enjoy watching her touch herself. 

Except she was wrong. 

Lucius let out a low growl as her fingers circled her apex. The hand that massaged her cheeks now reached between her legs and stopped her movements. His fingers covered hers, pressing them painfully against her sex. Hermione held his cock and moved her mouth off to look back at him. 

Lucius’ brows were furrowed, and his lips were turned downward. “Did I tell you to touch yourself?” 

His voice held an icy edge, and Hermione was unable to form words. She simply shook her head no. Lucius tightened his grip on her curls and moved her head back up to his face. Hot breath ghosted across her skin, and Lucius gently gripped her jaw. 

“I control your orgasms, Hermione. They are  _ mine _ . Understood?” 

And just like that, her regular course of action dissolved. In its place was something new, something that terrified and excited her all at the same time. She had seen enough muggle porn and seen enough movies to know what to say next. 

“Yes, Sir,” she mumbled past her nerves. 

Hermione didn’t even get a chance to continue sucking his cock before she was flipped around. Lucius hovered above her, eyes as dark as she’d ever seen them, and his silver locks created a curtain around them as he stared down at her. 

“What did you say?” His voice was rough like he was holding something back. 

Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat. “Yes, Sir.” 

And then Hermione discovered just  _ what  _ he was holding back. 

Lucius gripped her breasts tightly, lips diving straight to her neck to bite and suck. His cock slid delightfully against her as he began to dry hump against her. 

And then, suddenly, he pushed into her without even asking. 

Hermione was sure it was an abnormal thing for him—she could see the surprise on his face when he pushed up onto his forearms. Or maybe it felt as amazing for him as it did for her. 

It was only the head, but heated sparks began to fire in every nerve of Hermione’s body. Lucius never broke eye contact with her as he continued to push in. His nostrils flared with what Hermione assumed was him holding back from ramming inside her. 

Once Lucius was fully seated, and Hermione was stretched like never before, he spoke again. 

“Say it again.” He whispered into her ear. 

Hermione wasn’t nervous this time. “Yes, Sir.” 

Lucius gripped her face tightly, the other pressing her knee to the mattress and bending her in half. It allowed him to fuck her deeper, not that it was needed with how large he was. But it hit something in Hermione, something she had never felt before. Tension built in her abdomen as he continued to strike it. 

“Do you like being fucked like this, pet?” Lucius grunted, his breath wavering. 

“Yes, Sir,” Hermione moaned, her hands scrambling for any purchase on his arms. Her nails dug into his skin, and Lucius forced his thumb into her mouth. 

Something flashed in his eyes, “Suck it like I know you like to suck cock.” 

Hermione whimpered as her mouth closed around the digit. Her tongue flicked against the tip in time with his thrusts, both of their moans mixing in the air. Their skin slapped together as Lucius pounded into her, unrelenting. 

“Do you want to come?” 

Hermione nodded her head vigorously. Fuck did she. Every time he touched that spot, only more tension built. However, instead of granting her permission like she thought he would, Lucius pulled out of her. The sudden feeling of emptiness had Hermione cry out in frustration and confusion. 

Lucius chuckled, the sound deep as if it was laced with desire. “Flip on to your hands and knees, arse up in the air and face to the bed.” 

The tone held no room for argument, though Hermione wouldn’t have dared. She wanted to come so bad she would have done nearly anything. 

Her arse was entirely on display before him, and this time, when Lucius returned to fucking her, he didn’t bother to go slow. Hermione began to mutter all kinds of obscenities at the new position. Hermione felt like she would drown under the need to come, and her legs trembled as he hit that spot inside of her even more thoroughly than before. 

Lucius spanked her arse without restraint, and Hermione was sure sitting tomorrow would be impossible. But the pain only heightened her pleasure. 

“Tell me now, do you like anal?” 

Hermione was surprised by the strain in his voice, but she answered all the same. “Yes, Sir.” 

Wet fingers prodded her entrance, circling the tight muscle before one pressed inside. The new pressure in her second hole while the other was filled was too much. Hermione moaned even louder at the sensation. 

“Please,” Hermione pleaded, her voice quivering, “Please can I come.” 

“Ask correctly,” Lucius bit back, free hand smacking over the top of her arse cheek followed by a sharp thrust that shoved her face further into the mattress. 

“Please, Sir. Please can I come?” 

“Yes,” Lucius replied. “Come on my cock like a good girl.” 

Hermione’s hand darted to her clit, rubbing quick circles around it. Lucius gripped her hip tightly, fingers digging into the bone as his other hand continued to fuck her arse. They moved in time with his cock, the pace hard and merciless. 

After only a few short swipes, Hermione overflowed, a sharp cry pulling from her lips as her orgasm washed over her. Her whole body convulsed while tremors racked her body and she clenched around him. If it was even possible, Lucius fucked her harder and faster, sharp slaps of skin echoing in the room with his grunts and her moans. 

“Fuck, you’re so good, Hermione. You want my come? Tell me you want it.” 

“I want it—please, Sir.” Hermione panted, throat raw from her cries. “Please come, Sir.” 

With a few more hard thrusts, Lucius let out a strangled groan and came. Hermione could feel it fill her, and a new wave of desire coursed through her as Lucius’ hips bucked while he rode out his orgasm. 

Gently, he pulled his fingers from her arse, then his softening cock. Soft hands kneaded her cheeks from where it was still poised in the air. Hermione jolted when lips followed the same path as his hands, tender kisses covering the bruised skin. 

“How do you feel?” Lucius asked as he pushed her to lay down. 

Hermione flopped to her side unceremoniously, her body leaden with fatigue, “I feel like a million galleons.” Though she felt terrific, uncertainty ate at her mind, “Was it alright for you?” 

Lucius smiled at her softly, strong arms circling her. A hand came up to stroke her hair, and he kissed her temple slowly. “It was the greatest sex I have ever had. You were perfect.” 

The words made Hermione’s heart race. It was the best sex of her life, and she was glad Lucius felt the same. 

They laid in each other’s arms and talked for what felt like hours, discussing when they first felt attraction for the other and where to go from here. Lucius told her now that Narcissa was out of the picture, he planned to make Hermione his. 

They both closed their eyes to go to sleep, tangled together in the centre of the large bed beneath the sheets. Hermione began to fantasise what their life could be; how her friends would take the news of her with Lucius. She knew Pansy at least wouldn’t mind, she was one of the few who even knew of her infatuation. The sneaky Slytherin confronted her one day after she and Lucius had apparently “flirted like they fucked” during a get-together at Grimmauld Place.

Just as thoughts of whether he would want another child flitted into her mind, Hermione realised something with a start. 

“Wait,” Hermione sat up, eyes wild and pulse racing. “I’m not on the potion.” 

Lucius’ smile dropped. “Ah.”

* * *

“It’s not funny, Draco.” 

Draco laughed beside her as he took his coat off and then helped her out of hers. “You have to admit; it’s a little funny, Granger.” 

Hermione hurled a glare at him, “I do  _ not  _ need this right now. Do I need to remind you that these are your brothers or sisters?”

“Or maybe I’ll get one of each!” Draco smirked as her glare deepened and gestured to her protruding belly. “Yes, trust me. I’ve had a reminder for the last several months.” 

“Is it true, Hermione? Twins?” Harry asked beside his now boyfriend. The two of them had finally announced their relationship shortly before Hermione and Lucius announced their’s, along with the fact she was already three months pregnant. 

Hermione placed her hands across her stomach to reassure herself. She was nearly five months along now, that first time with Lucius had been plenty, though they fucked like rabbits regularly. A curse was thrown his way every time she hurled into a toilet or peed her pants a bit when she laughed. 

At her healer appointment today, Draco had attended with her since Lucius had business meetings he couldn’t get out of. Hermione didn’t mind honestly; she thought it was just going to be a regular monthly check-up. Instead, the healer cast diagnostic charm after diagnostic charm over her stomach in rapid succession. Hermione kept asking her what was wrong, thinking something terrible had happened to her baby. 

But no, the healer had looked her dead in the face and said there was a second heartbeat. 

Draco had never laughed harder in his life. 

“Yes, Harry,” Hermione sighed as she sat in the dining chair. “It’s true. I don’t know how I’m going to tell Lucius.” 

The sound of the Floo roaring to life echoed in the next room over. 

Draco chuckled and squeezed her shoulders, “Looks like you’ll have to figure it out in the next few seconds.” 

Clipped strides vibrated on the floorboards and Lucius pushed through to Grimmauld’s kitchen, stopping short at the peculiar faces of its occupants. 

Hermione chewed on her lips nervously, while Draco couldn’t stop smiling. Harry only watched. 

Lucius immediately went to Hermione’s side, pressing a swift kiss to her mouth, “Is something wrong?” 

Draco barked out a laugh, and the glare Hermione shot him had Harry pushing Draco out the kitchen door with the promise of an extra-long blowjob that night if he behaved.

Hermione’s stomach fluttered as she returned her gaze to Lucius. “Please don’t be upset.” 

Confusion laced Lucius’ features, but he stayed silent for her to continue. 

“The healer found...” Hermione trailed off and took a deep breath. She just had to say it. Had to get it out, “The healer found a second heartbeat. We’re having twins.” 

A beat passed as the information processed. Once Lucius seemed to understand her, pure joy and elation filled his eyes. He grabbed both her hands and knelt before her, pressing kisses to her fingers. 

“Truly?  _ Twins? _ ”

Hermione nodded and smiled, tears brimming her eyes. She damned it on her hormones, but she knew it was really from the worry that Lucius would be mad. The fact that he was so happy filled her with relief. 

Lucius laid his head against her rounded stomach, hands gently circling the sides. Hermione laughed with him as he pressed kiss after kiss to the top. 

The love of her soon-to-be little family surrounded her. Hermione had never been happier, and couldn’t wait to grow happier with every single day that passed from then. 

  
  
  



End file.
